Hear You Me
by Jayden Shay
Summary: When Bucky signed up as part of a government initiative to induce powers in people, he never thought it would actually work. He didn't exactly expect Steve, or the unintended side-effects, either - but he's certainly not complaining. Modern day, alternate superpower AU; leaning towards the PWP


"Have a seat, Mr. Barnes," The receptionist said, ushering him into a small, generic looking exam room and gesturing vaguely towards the pair of chairs lined up against the back wall, "Someone will be in to speak with you in a moment." She shut the door behind her, and Bucky was on his own.

He took a seat like she'd suggested, opting for the one furthest from the exam table covered in that awful crinkly paper, and glanced around. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere, nothing to indicate any sort of character to this place save for a poster with a smiling kid proclaiming the benefits of regular checkups. It didn't look like some super villain's lair at least, though Bucky wasn't quite sure what he'd expected. Were implausible government-run experiments usually carried out in plain old doctors' offices?

Signing up had been a no-brainer, but now the nerves were starting to settle in. Bucky tried to recall the excitement he'd had only minutes before, but mostly ended up just counting the ceiling tiles - then the tongue depressors in a glass jar on the counter. His mouth felt like a desert. Maybe he could ask for a drink when the doctor got there. If only the guy would show up already; the waiting was hell.

There were footsteps on the other side of the door, a bit of fading conversation that he couldn't quite catch. Someone put their hand on the knob and Bucky forgot how to breathe a little bit. But when the door opened, it was just a scrawny guy with a clipboard. He couldn't have been more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, and a strong wind would probably blow him right over. "Good morning, Mr. Barnes,"

"Bucky," He interrupted, not even realizing his mistake until he saw the corner of the guy's mouth twitch up into a half smile, but he corrected himself with a hint of amusement.

"Bucky then." The guy didn't chastise him for being rude - definitely a good thing, because Bucky had a knack for putting his foot in his mouth when he was apprehensive about something, and if this didn't qualify, nothing ever would. He did offer his hand though; Bucky half-stood and leaned forward to shake it. "I'm Steve Rogers. I'll be supervising your procedure later, but first we have a few questions to get through." He brandished the clipboard and Bucky could swear he saw Steve fighting not to roll his eyes. He liked this guy already.

"Shoot."

Mostly, it was easy. Steve started with the basics: name, age, address, medical history - the same shit Bucky got asked anytime he went to see a doctor. He certainly didn't seem sketchy, leaning back against the exam table like he thought he was much cooler than he actually was, sucking on the top of his pen when he wasn't asking Bucky questions or busy writing something down. The whole effect was oddly endearing, and Bucky almost forgot to be nervous.

"Where are you going after this?"

"What," Bucky joked, "You asking me out or something?" He hadn't figured Steve swung that way, but what the hell. Steve laughed. He sucked on the tip of his pen for a long moment, lips quirked up around it, and Bucky might have started paying a bit too much attention at that point.

"I'm supposed to make sure you have somewhere to go," He said, still smirking, "and preferably someone who can look after you in case there are any complications."

Bucky felt his face go hot. "I've got an apartment." He assured Steve, "Didn't realize I needed a babysitter though. I live alone."

"I'm sure it'll be fine." Steve shrugged and marked something down on his clipboard. Bucky wished for the first time that he could see what Steve was writing about him. "I'm guessing you drove yourself here then?"

Bucky nodded. "Can I put myself down as your ride if I promise not to steal your virtue?" It took him longer than it should have to work out that Steve was teasing him now. He grinned.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks, I guess."

"No problem."

And then it was back to the same sort of questions as before. Family history, any past drug use or convictions… easy stuff, but Bucky was starting to wonder if they'd ever get to the point. He'd already had to fill out a million forms just to sign up for this in the first place; why couldn't they just get on with it?

"So why'd you want to be a superhero?" That question took him by surprise.

"Is that on your questionnaire too?" Bucky asked, craning his neck as if that'd let him see it.

"Of course." Steve set the clipboard down behind him on the exam table and crossed his arms, leaned back enough that Bucky could see a thin strip of skin beneath the hem of his shirt. He was smiling again, but it seemed genuine this time. "Just imagine the sort of liability suits you'd get from giving superpowers to a wannabe dictator."

He paused for a minute as if to let that sink in. "So how come you want to sell your soul to the government and be a caped crusader?"

"Well I need to do something with my life," Bucky half-joked, "Besides, I already sold my soul to the government when I joined the military. Figured I couldn't get much deeper down that particular rabbit hole anyway." He hesitated, "I just want to protect people." Bucky just hoped Steve wouldn't ask why.

"What do you do for the military?" Steve asked, picking up his clipboard back up, and they were off playing 20 questions again.

Eventually Steve seemed satisfied, and Bucky thanked his lucky stars for that. "I'm going to go show this," he brandished the clipboard, "to the appropriate parties, and if they want to go through with it I'll be back to get you ready in a minute. If not, Kate will show you out." Bucky thought back to the pretty blonde receptionist, but crossed his fingers that she wouldn't be the one coming for him all the same.

Steve crossed the room and put his hand on the doorknob, but hesitated for a second before he opened it. There was a weird sort of tension between them, and Bucky didn't think he was the only one who noticed it. Maybe Steve would turn back and give him his number or something - just in case. But he didn't. "If it means anything," Steve said quietly, not meeting his eyes for a long moment, "I hope they chose you."

Bucky swallowed hard. "Thanks."

The door shut behind Steve with a quiet click that seemed to echo in the sparse room, and then Bucky was alone. Hopefully they'd at least make their decision soon. His mouth was still dry - he hadn't noticed it so much when he was talking to Steve, but now it was back with a vengeance. Bucky stared at the ugly pale green walls and started counting the seconds to try to take his mind off of it. He couldn't hear anything beyond the room, not even the hum of an air conditioning unit, though he supposed there was one somewhere because it'd been at least a hundred degrees outside when he'd walked into the clinic and he wasn't sweating yet.

Well, not from the heat anyway.

There were footsteps on the other side of the door again a moment later, and Bucky sat up straighter. It didn't open though, and the sound faded again. Then it was back. He clasped his hands together and wondered what the hell could be going on out there. They hadn't forgotten he was in here, had they? It seemed like there was a lot of talking going on all of a sudden, lots more footsteps too, but he couldn't catch any of it. Maybe it was a good thing? At least Bucky hoped it was.

"Hey," Steve poked his head in, and Bucky got a glimpse of several people wearing white coats walking past the door in a hurry in the time it took for Steve to slip into the room.

"Hey." Bucky echoed. He licked his lips. "Tell me you're here with good news."

Steve cocked his head and grinned. "You want to pick out your alter-ego now or later?" He snarked back, and while Bucky definitely appreciated the bit of levity, he hadn't thought being accepted would actually make him more nervous.

He scrunched his nose up in a mock-grimace that ended up feeling more real than he'd intended. "Later. Definitely later."

Steve came closer, leaned up against the exam table again. "You're holding it together pretty well so far," He said encouragingly. Was it that obvious? Bucky glanced up at him.

"Are you kidding me, this is how I spend every weekend." He deadpanned. The waiting part wasn't far off. With all the hours of waiting he'd had to do for a single target sometimes, he really should be used to that by now.

"Might want to get a hobby." Steve shot back at him, and Bucky felt his face break into a grin before he could help it.

"Alright then, smartass. What's the plan now?"

"Now we wait." Steve said, hopping up onto the table behind him. "There's a team of doctors getting everything ready, but it'll be a bit. Can I get you a drink or something?"

"You're _my_ hero," Bucky groaned, "Yes, please."

Steve laughed, but he hopped back down off the table, opened one of the cabinets on the far wall and pulled out a dixie cup. It was like any other doctor's office Bucky had ever been in, complete with the stupid paper cups. It wasn't like they'd really keep brains in jars or something equally nefarious out in the relative public, he told himself. Bucky snorted a laugh and shook his head at his own stupidity. Un-fucking-believable.

"What'd you expect?" Steve asked, "A minibar?" He turned on the dinky little sink set into the counter, and actually waited for it to get cold, sticking his fingers into the stream of water every few seconds to check.

"Something like that." Bucky lied, "Who knows what kind of weird shit you government types have."

It was Steve's turn to shake his head then. He handed Bucky the cup of water, and it looked like he might say something else, but clearly he reconsidered. Their fingers brushed - more than brushed really, it was such a tiny little cup, impossible to avoid a bit of overlap - and Bucky thought about asking for his number again.

"Thanks." He gritted out, and drained the cup in one tense gulp.

"No problem."

Normally he'd have some sort of witty conversation piece, some stupid crack. Hell, he'd be hitting on a guy like Steve by now if they were anywhere else, but Bucky kept himself quiet for once. He stared down at the cup crushed in his hands and tried to convince himself that it wasn't the firing squad he'd signed himself up for.

Steve was silent too until there was a knock on the door. "Yeah," He called out, "Come on in."

An older man entered the room this time - white coat, glasses, another clipboard and everything. "We're ready whenever you are, Mr. Barnes." He said, smiling just enough to look kind and professional. It didn't reach his eyes the way Steve's did, and Bucky didn't buy it, but he nodded anyway and the new guy turned to Steve. "As soon as he's been prepped, you can bring him in." That sounded suspiciously ominous. Bucky turned to Steve for clarification before the older man had even shut the door behind him on the way out.

"Right." Steve clasped his hands together, the picture of professionalism all of a sudden, "Nothing to worry about; I'm just going to have to ask you to undress and drink something that'll help us track the process."

"I'm not going to wake up in an alley somewhere with a sore ass, am I?" Bucky joked. He couldn't help it. But at least that got Steve laughing again.

"On my honor." He bent down to grab something out of one of the other cabinets, a big brown glass bottle. From what Bucky could figure, it was some sort of dye. Steve busied himself with that for much longer than necessary, and Bucky felt like an idiot when it finally occurred to him that Steve was trying to give him some privacy. He toed off his shoes and stood to get his belt - "Am I going the full monty here, or do I get to keep my boxers?" He asked.

Steve didn't turn around. "They might ask you to take them off later, but you can leave them on for now." The tips of his ears were pink… interesting. Bucky grinned to himself and finished undressing, piling his clothes on the other chair.

"I'm at your mercy," He announced as soon as he finished, not even trying to keep the teasing note in his voice subtle, "Like what you see?" Steve's ears pinked a little more, but he turned around and held out a new cup with a determinedly expressionless face. He didn't acknowledge Bucky's comment, just pressed the drink into his hand. It even looked like it would taste disgusting. Great. "Here goes nothing."

Sure enough, Bucky found himself spluttering when he attempted to knock it back. "Ugh," He complained, "What the fuck _was_ that?" The thick, noxious sludge attached itself to his tongue, and made getting rid of the aftertaste impossible. Steve smirked a little, but at least he tried to hide it. Bucky made another face at him.

"I'm sure you've tasted worse," Steve non-answered, but he did turn and get Bucky another cup of water to wash it down, so there was that.

"I'm glad one of us is enjoying this."

"You know it," Steve shot back. "So what d'you say, ready to become a superhero?"

"Not at all," Bucky admitted, "But what the hell. Lets go."

.

It was a bit cold, and Bucky couldn't help feeling slightly exposed wearing just his boxers as Steve led him down the hall. It felt like people were watching them from every cross-hallway and doorway, but he kept his head down and didn't mouth off, like the military had always tried to train him.

"You nervous?" Steve asked, pausing in front of a disappointingly plain door. He was smiling again, and Bucky didn't have the heart to tell him that it'd be a toss up if he threw up or fainted first.

"Should I be?" He cracked instead, hoping they could get this over with before he really started to regret it.

Steve's grin only widened. "Nah," He said, twisting the handle and pushing the door open, "You'll be fine."

The first thing Bucky took in was all the white. White floors, walls, and ceiling, and even the exam table surrounded by fancy looking equipment in the dead center of it all was too. The lights were too bright, reflecting off of everything, and the smell of antiseptic and latex hung heavy in the air. He swallowed hard again and followed Steve in. At least there weren't any suspicious stains to worry about.

"Mr. Barnes-" He was mobbed by doctors instantly, more than a few people reaching out to shake his hand or pat him on the back, and the whole effect was overwhelming. He stepped closer to Steve, and must have made a face or something, because a couple of them backed off.

"Right," A woman, this one all done up in military brass and blues - Air Force - stepped up and handed him yet another damn clipboard. "I need you to sign here, here, and here." She pointed them out quickly, one by one, and didn't back off until he'd started scribbling his name. "Standard non-disclosure agreement, and Uncle Sam owns you for the rest of eternity, you know the drill."

"Any idea what Uncle Sam's going to have me doing?" Everyone he'd spoken to had been rather evasive on that front so far, so it wasn't like Bucky expected an answer.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Probably shove you in a closet and forget about all of this until it's convenient for him." She said, with a little unimpressed snort, "A hundred and fifty years max." He pressed the clipboard back into her hands with a knowing smirk and saluted. She returned it. "Good luck, Sergeant."

"Thanks."

"You've got a fan club already," Steve teased him.

Bucky just winked. "Does that make you the president? I'll always remember you were first."

"Mr. Barnes, if you're done flirting with my assistant, I need you over here." The doctor from earlier called out, voice projecting eerily well in the cavernous room. There were definitely chuckles from a few people standing around, and Steve flushed a bit. At least Bucky wasn't alone there.

"Gotcha," He muttered under his breath, retreating with a sheepish smile.

.

.

He was having trouble breathing. Something warm and soft was smushed all up against his face, and Bucky twisted his head to try to get away from it. Everything was dark, and everything hurt. "Oww," He moaned, more for his own benefit than anything else, and nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand came down on his arm.

"Bucky?" Someone said, "How are you feeling?"

He twisted around, trying to see where the voice had come from, and who was touching him, and the world spun sickeningly. "Like hell. Whatd'ya think?" His words sounded slurred even to his own ears, like his mouth couldn't quite catch up with his brain - and that was already moving sluggishly enough. He'd just realized he was in a bed somewhere.

There was a click-click, and then a lamp flared to life a few feet from his head. Bucky blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the dim light. Even that felt like it was trying its best to sear his retinas. Eventually the world came into a focus that made sense. The guy from earlier - the cute blonde one - was standing over the side of the bed, and his hand was still on Bucky's bicep.

"Hey," He slurred, grinning sloppily despite the niggling suspicion he'd been run over by a train.

Steve laughed. "Still out of it then. Go back to sleep, Bucky. You'll feel better in the morning."

"Don't-" _want to_, he started to protest, lost the words halfway to his lips and ended up yawning instead, letting his head fall back against the pillow. It was too heavy to hold up anyway.

.

.

The next time he woke up, he was a little more coherent. Bucky's whole body ached, but he pushed himself up to look around, and tried to ignore the throbbing in his head - and, oh, not just the one then. It wasn't the first time he'd ever woken up in a stranger's bed with no recollection of the night before, but this felt weird even by his standards. He couldn't remember _anything_.

"Hey again," He turned to see a guy sprawled out in a chair to the left of the bed, and rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing things correctly.

"Steve?" He asked. Memories of the clinic started to filter back through his head, but how he'd ended up - "Where am I? What-" The more Bucky tried to piece it together, the more questions he had. Steve turned to sit the right way in the chair and put his hands up.

"You're in my apartment." Steve spoke slowly, something Bucky was pathetically grateful for, "You were completely out of it after the procedure, and my place was closer. Do you remember any of it?"

Bucky shook his head, but relaxed a bit, leaning back against the headboard. Steve grinned. "That's probably for the best." Bucky just nodded and went with it, too tired to question. He shifted, bringing his legs up to his chest in an attempt to hide his morning wood that didn't appear to be going down anytime soon. (If it was still dark out, and he had no idea what time it was, did that still count as morning wood?) "Want me to take you home?"

"That's okay." He didn't even realize he was running his hands up and down the sides of his thighs until Steve gave him a look. Bucky forced himself to stop, but it felt weird. He settled for squeezing his calves instead.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'm sore as fuck, but I'll live. You sleep at all last night?"

Steve glanced over at a clock on the bedside table, and Bucky followed his gaze. It certainly didn't seem like it should only be ten pm. The last time he'd been this disoriented, there'd been way, way too much alcohol involved, to the point where he'd sworn off it forever and actually stuck to that for a month and a half. "Oh. Should I go home and let you sleep then?"

"It's fine." Steve assured him. He shrugged, but Bucky couldn't help focusing on the way his lips pursed up instead. He wondered what they'd feel like against his, then caught himself.

"At least come lay down. I don't want to hog your whole bed. And besides, you already promised no funny business." He was teasing, but his voice caught on the words and ruined the whole effect. Maybe Steve would take it as an invitation. Bucky bit his lip - and then he ran his tongue over them. Had that always felt so good? It certainly wasn't helping his other predicament.

"You sure it's okay?"

"Yeah. Why not?" His head felt funny, like maybe he _was_ a bit tipsy, and the dull, throbbing ache was quickly becoming some other sensation Bucky couldn't quite identify. But he moved over to make room for Steve on the bed, still trying to look nonchalant about it and not freak the guy out with his massive hard-on.

"Just making sure." The bed shifted as he climbed onto it and settled next to Bucky, but Bucky barely noticed that. His skin was tingling with the proximity alone, little shivers shooting up and down his spine in quick succession, and it felt good - but way, way too intense at the same time.

He lifted a hand to his face, tried to breathe. _Get yourself together, man._ "Is everything okay?" Steve asked again.

"I don't know." Even the feeling of the sheets and the clothes against his skin was starting to get overwhelming. He didn't see Steve lift a hand, but sure felt it when Steve's fingers curled around his, urging them down from his face. Heat rushed through his body from his fingertips and then back, tingly little shocks lighting all over. Bucky shuddered and moaned.

"What's wrong?" Steve sounded worried, but then his hand was on Bucky's forehead, and that was all he could possibly concentrate on. He could feel the pulse of blood beneath Steve's skin, and his cock throbbed in time with it.

"About that funny business," He joked breathlessly. Steve moved to pull his hand back, but Bucky reached up and caught his wrist. All of the confusing sensations were starting to feel more manageable already just due to that little bit of contact. He couldn't bear to think what might happen if Steve pulled away from him. "Please, don't stop touching me." The words sounded a lot more honest than Bucky had intended, his desperation laid bare between them.

Steve hesitated for a long moment, and then, "Okay." He let his hand slip down onto Bucky's arm, and Bucky couldn't resist leaning in to the touch. Warmth flooded through him, centered around the press of Steve's palm against his bicep. "So tell me about your family." Steve ran his hand up and down Bucky's arm gently, and the effect was oddly soothing despite the surge of sensation it sparked.

"Where'd that come from?" Bucky asked him. His family wasn't quite the _last_ thing on his mind at the moment, but it was certainly close.

"Humor me."

"What's it matter?" He hesitated, and Steve's hand stilled. "I've got four younger sisters, but they're all grown up and don't need me anymore." Bucky didn't even know why he was telling Steve this. He wasn't the kind of guy who would put his insecurities on display for anyone, let alone a near-stranger, and Steve certainly seemed perceptive enough to read into it.

"Ah." Yeah, he'd figured that out alright, but Bucky couldn't even bring himself to care. Not as long as Steve kept rubbing his arm like that, fingers trailing heat along his skin. "Is that why you really signed up for all this?"

"Maybe." Bucky evaded giving Steve a real answer. He couldn't even think straight. It had subsided when Steve touched him at first, but everything was building again, strange and uncomfortable. Bucky couldn't help imagining that his whole body was being pulled tight, straining incessantly towards something he couldn't possibly reach. Everything ached, but his cock was still rock hard and embarrassingly sensitive, like he'd been jacking off for the past twenty minutes rather than just laying there with Steve.

He shifted, trying to relieve the pressure somehow, but that didn't help in the slightest. A million sparks pinged off his skin - every little brush of fabric setting off its own chain reaction - and Bucky was overwhelmed by it in a second. He couldn't move, just laid there and tried to force himself to either breathe, or not to hyperventilate - Bucky didn't really know which.

"Stop the train," He tried to joke, but it sounded about as pitiful as he felt, "I want to get off."

"What's wrong?"

"Everything's... intense." _It's going straight to my cock and making me want to die at the same time._ Bucky left that bit off.

"They said there might be a period of adjustment - your nerves recalibrating or something." Steve's hand tightened around his arm, and Bucky could have sworn that was the only thing keeping him there. "Need me to quit touching you?"

"Not really." Bucky turned his head to look at Steve and the whole world went topsy turvy again. "Whatever else you do, just please don't do that." That felt much too serious. He tried to lighten the mood some. "Touch me _all_ you'd like."

"Oh." Steve said. "_Ohhh_."

"You catch on quick," Bucky laughed.

At least Steve didn't seem freaked out. "I'm told it's a talent of mine." He shifted closer until he was laying alongside Bucky, pressed up against him from shoulder to hip. Warmth leached all the way down into his bones.

And then Steve pushed himself up onto his forearm, leaning over Bucky and looking down at him like - well - he licked his lips, looking nervous for the first time since Bucky had met him. It was adorable really. Bucky had never wanted anyone so much - but Steve hesitated.

"If you're going to kiss me," Bucky teased him, trying to concentrate on anything other than the steady thump of his pulse in every too-sensitive section of his body, "Better do it before I beat you to the punch."

Steve's mouth went tight like he was trying not to smile, but before Bucky could tease him about that too, Steve was leaning in, shoving his lips over Bucky's a lot more roughly than he'd expected. Not that Bucky was complaining. Fireworks were going off against his skin, whole body single-mindedly falling into the kiss like that was what it'd been designed for. He reached up and toppled Steve onto him, hooking a hand around his slim hips and around the back of his neck. The press of their bodies together - Steve's smaller frame on top of his, and not quite as slight as Bucky had imagined - was the only real thing left in the world.

"You sure you want to be doing this?" Steve broke the kiss to ask, lips shining and red and swollen already. He looked like he couldn't quite believe this was happening, his quick little pants for breath turning Bucky's jaw into an erogenous zone he'd never known he had.

He nuzzled Steve's neck and squirmed beneath him, back arching until his cock was pressed up against Steve's thighs. Every movement sent shockwaves radiating through his entire body, until Bucky thought he should be exploding from the pleasure or something, because how could feeling like this even be humanly possible? "You gonna respect me in the morning?" He drawled, licking a stripe up the side of Steve's neck.

Steve's cock was hard too - Bucky could feel it pulse against his stomach with the words - and his skin tasted like heat and sweat and salt, all melting against his tongue. "Scout's honor." Steve promised breathlessly. "I'll respect the hell out of you in the morning."

"You know, I'd actually believe you were a boy scout." Bucky assured Steve, tugging him back down and rolling his hips into the motion until he lost himself in it for real. The world could be ending, crumbling down around them right now for all he knew or cared, and this would still be the only thing that mattered. He tongued his way back into Steve's mouth, but lost the rhythm completely when Steve ran his hands up his arms in long, smooth strokes, fingers curling around his wrists and tugging them towards his head.

It would have been easy to resist - Bucky didn't even try. He let Steve pin his arms against the pillows, still short of breath from the tingling sensations traveling up and down his arms like a wildfire where Steve's hands had been only a moment before. Heat pooled in the pit of his stomach, and Bucky could already feel his cock leaking precum into his shorts. With Steve grinding down on him like that, fingers clenching tight around his wrists and going loose again with every little thrust - almost as good as the tandem squeeze of Steve's thighs around his cock - Bucky didn't even know where to begin trying to hold back.

"Steve," Bucky gasped, hiding his face against Steve's bony shoulder but mouthing desperately at the curve of it through the thin tee shirt he was wearing all the same. " 'm so close," It felt like he should apologize, but he couldn't get his brain to form the words, and besides, Steve was bending his head and licking his way up the shell of Bucky's ear, and it was impossible to summon up any kind of remorse whatsoever.

"All good," He panted, breath kicking off yet another surge of electricity just under the surface of Bucky's skin, relays racing down every synapse.

"Oh god," His toes curled, heat rushing to his cock - "fuck," Bucky whimpered. He could _feel_ Steve's smirk against his neck. And Steve took full advantage, tugging on Bucky's earlobe with his teeth and grinding down against him. His fingernails dug sharp pinpricks into Bucky's wrists, thighs closed tight around him, and he couldn't - he _couldn't_-

Bucky could feel the blood pounding through his veins, stars bursting behind his eyelids, every single atom in his body vibrating at a vicious pace. He lost himself in the massive burst of sensation, and had it not been for Steve's bruising grip on his wrists, reassuring weight pressed against his chest, Bucky would have been terrified. All of it was too much - too much to the point where he couldn't even hope to do anything more than bite down on his lip and let himself be ripped away, whole body shaking from the force of it.

.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Bucky whispered brokenly, his voice shaky and weak as he tried to ride out the aftershocks. His whole body felt like a live wire - stripped raw and still electrified.

Steve pressed his lips to Bucky's, gentle as a whisper. "Don't apologize. I came too."

"Oh. Good." He was too exhausted to feel appropriately gleeful, but tried his best anyway. Steve rolled off of him, flopping back against the bed to his left, and let out a contented sigh.

"Feeling better?"

"Aside from thinking my body just tried to kill me, yeah." The longer he lay there, the more the heightened sensations were slowly ebbing away. Maybe he'd be okay after all. "I'll make it up to you next time, I promise."

"Next time?" Bucky looked over to see Steve grinning at him.

"Hell yeah next time, you punk. We're not going to make this weird, are we?" His shorts were sticking to his thighs, uncomfortable and wet. By all means it _should_ be weird, but Bucky didn't care in the slightest.

Steve pulled a face, as if noticing the same thing. He tugged at the front of his pants uselessly, but gave up a moment later with a snort. "Nah. Better this way anyhow. Shower?"

"Best idea I've heard all day."


End file.
